Mistrust
by jayer
Summary: A visit home for Christmas is interrupted by a request for help and Reid finds himself working a case that gets a little personal. Post Blood Hungry
1. prologue

_**"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."**_

" . . . where he f-fun-fund"

"found."

"found his dinner. And it was st-st-still hot."

"Smile you two."

Reid looked up to find his mother standing in the doorway, her new digital camera in her hand.

'Nini, I wanna be in the picture." A curly haired three year old ran over.

"Climb up next to Ashton."

Reid pulled his niece up onto his lap next to her brother. Jessie threw her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly.

"Yeah, I can't smile when you squeeze that tight." Reid laughed as she let go.

"Wait a second. I messed something up."

"Let me see it." Reid held out his hand.

"No. I've got it." Maggie laughed. "Okay. On three. One. Two. Three."

"Santa Claus!" Ashton and Jessie yelled.

"Santa must be on Atkins." A voice laughed from behind them. "Cause he's missing his belly like a bowl full of jelly."

"Uncle David." The kids yelled as they scrambled off Reid's lap.

"Hey guys." David knelt down and hugged them with one arm, his sleeping son in his other arm. "Hey Mom. Spencer."

"David." Reid hugged his brother. "Need a hand with anything?"

"Yeah. I've got a trunk full of presents."

"I'll take Steven." Maggie reached for her grandson.

"Uncle Spencer." Ashton ran up. "Your coat is singing."

"David, I'll be there in a minute." Reid pulled his cell phone out of the inside pocket. The number for the BAU was on the display. "Reid."

"Reid. It's Hotch. How's the family?"

"I think rambunctious would be a good word." Reid laughed. "Between my brothers and my sister, there are seven kids running around the house. And they all want my undivided attention."

"You are the uncle from out of town."

"And my mother has already tried to feed me enough for a small army."

"Mothers will do that." There was a pause. "Listen, I know you're on vacation"

"But."

"We received a call from the local field office. The police in Henderson called for a consultation on a case. The local agents referred the case to the BAU."

Reid slipped into his old room, pulling the door shut. He found a half used notebook in a drawer.

"What do we know?"

"The victim is a fourteen year old boy. He went missing on the 16th. Left school, never made it home. 911 received a call yesterday afternoon about a body in an old dump just outside of town."

"Cause of death?"

"Full autopsy report hasn't arrived here yet. There were numerous bruises on the boy's body suggesting he was beaten. Bruises on the neck indicate possible strangulation. Noticeable lack of evidence suggests he was killed somewhere else and dumped there. That's all we have so far."

"Not much."

"There should be more information waiting for you in the morning."

"I can be there first thing."

"Good. I'm sorry about interrupting your trip home."

"It's okay. It's a hazard of the job."

"Review the information and call me with your conclusions, so we can decide on a course of action."

"You thinking a serial killer?"

"Don't we always."


	2. Chapter 1

"Agent Reid. I"m Dr Lansing."

Reid followed the older gentleman into the examination room. He paused for a moment when he saw the body. The boy was short and thin. The bruises scattered all over his face and chest stood out against his pale skin.

"Sad when it happens to a child so young."

Reid nodded. He pulled out a notebook, joting down thoughts as the doctor walked him through the autopsy.

"So the cause of death was respiratory arrest?"

"Michael was a patient here at the hospital. Asthma."

"He's grabbed after school, attacked. Has an attack."

"The bruises on his arms suggest he was being held down."

"Couldn't get to his inhaler and stop the attack."

"It would seem."

"Were there any signs of drugs?"

"The toxic report isn't completed."

"So it's possible the asthma attack was drug induced."

"Perhaps."

"And the time of death?"

"Hard to determine. The rigor was gone so it has to have been a day or two before discovery but I can't say if it was longer."

"So it's equally possible that he was being held for several days."

"It's possible. That dump has been out of use for months. And the weather has been fairly balmy. Poor kid could have been out there for a couple of days before anyone found him. Could have been dead the whole time."

Reid swallowed. Normally he had to struggle to look at people he didn't know. It was a nervous thing built up over years of being stared at. He would catch himself avoiding looking at someone and have to remind himself to look up. But this time he couldn't keep his eyes away. His gaze kept going to the boy on the table. The bruises, the pale skin, the bony frame of a boy that would been labeled a 'late bloomer' if he'd lived long enough. Reid had the uncomfortable feeling that the child in his dreams would have face now.


	3. Chapter 2

"Will this work?" The officer led Reid into an empty office.

Reid looked around the room. It was small, but quiet. There was a desk and chair pushed up against a corner.

"Does that phone work?"

"Sure does."

"Then it's perfect." Reid set his bag on the desk. He pulled out the stack of photos Lansing had given him and began taping them to the walls.

"Is there something I can do to help?" The young woman offered.

"Are there any photos from the crime scene?"

"Yes."

Reid pointed to the adjoining wall. "Could you spread them out on the wall?"

The two worked in silence. Reid could feel the tension in the room. It was almost palatable.

"Is there something wrong, Officer Fielding?"

"I hate cases like this. They just get to me. I know they shouldn't."

"Being disturbed by a case is very common." Reid replied. "Especially a case where the victim is a child. In fact, there was a study conducted five years ago on stressors that cause mental and emotional breakdowns in persons that work in high trauma conditions -- police, emergency room doctors. The goal of the study was to identity situations that might warrant the need for intervention to prevent complications."

"You mean post traumatic stress?"

Reid nodded. "Excluding direct attack, the most common factor was a situation in which the victim was a child, particularly a prepubescent child. I myself have and periodically still suffer from a recurring nightmare in which I am attempting to reach out to a child surrounded by a vague yet foreboding darkness. I try to pull the child to safety but no matter how much I try, the child is always just out of reach." Reid suddenly stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. It's a bad habit. I have all this information in my head and I say things before I remember that people aren't interested."

"Actually I find it fascinating."

"You do?" Reid turned to find Morgan and Greenway standing in the doorway.

The young woman looked at the pair curiously.

"Officer Fielding, Agents Morgan and Greenway." Reid intervened.

"You work with Agent Reid?"

"Yes Ma'am." Morgan gave the young woman a slightly wolfish grin. Not surprisingly, she blushed. Most woman had that reaction to Morgan. "Jesus, Reid." Morgan examined the photos on the wall. "Poor kid."

"I told Hotch I could handle this." Reid said, protesting.

"Maybe you can. But if this thing goes ugly, you'll need back up. Besides, it never hurts to have more than one set of eyes looking over the evidence."

Greenway looked at the photos. "Is it just me, or does this kid remind you of someone. Or rather someone ten years ago." She turned and looked at Reid, her point made clear by the look in her eyes.


	4. Chapter 3

Morgan knocked on the door. A little boy, made 9 or 10 years old, answered.

"Hello."

"Hello.' Morgan smiled at the boy. "Is your father at home?"

The little boy nodded and then ran into the house. "Daddy." They could hear him yelling.

A moment later an older man came to the door. "Yes, can I help you?"

Morgan and Reid pulled out their badges. "I'm Special Agent Morgan, this is Dr Reid."

"You're the men from the FBI. Doug Lansing called and told me you might come by." The man stepped back to let them enter. "Please come in. We can talk in the living room." He pointed to a room just off the hallway. "Would you like some coffee or water?"

"We're fine." Reid shook his head.

"We just have a few questions, Mr Dean."

"Of course. I just can't believe Michael is dead. It's so sad." Dean sat down in a worn but comfortable armchair. Morgan and Reid sat down on the sofa. Reid pulled out a notebook and a pen.

"What kind of person was Michael Benson?" Morgan asked, once Reid was situated.

"Quiet, shy. Smart. I suppose you could say a nerd. A bit clumsy. The only class he didn't make an A in without trying was gym. The boy's asthma would have given him an excuse out of the class, but Michael wouldn't take it. Coach Bentley gave him a B in the class for trying even though he was as unathletic as he was smart."

Morgan laughed. "We know the type."

"He rode a bicycle to school?" Reid asked.

"That's right. He lived within the two mile circle so there was no bus that would pick him up. A lot of the younger students rode bicycles instead of being dropped off."

"What can you tell us about the day Michael disappeared?"

"The 16th was the last day of classes. The children were restless, running in the halls, yelling. Pulling pranks."

"Pranks like letting the air out of all the bicycle tires?"

"A common, and generally harmless, prank." Dean nodded. "There's a gas station about four blocks from the school. They see a lot of our students there, putting air back in their tires, using the hoses to wash egg or shaving cream off their cars."

"Sounds like a typical high school." Morgan nodded. "So Michael finished classes, found his bicycle tires flat and likely would have walked his bike over to the gas station before riding home."

"I would assume so."

"That fits with the location where the bicycle was found." Reid consulted his notes. "Did Michael have any friends?"

"Not that I'm aware of. At least not any very close friends. He spent most of his lunches in the science lab. Mr Franklin had an impromptu chess club going."

"You said most of his lunches." Morgan cut in. "What about the rest of the time?"

"Michael was also a peer tutor, mostly for math and science." Dean looked at them. "Does any of this help you?"

"It might." Morgan said, his voice filled with a tone of practiced false enthusiasm. "Thank you for your time." Morgan said, standing. Reid followed suit.

"If there is anything else," Dean said, leading them to the door.


	5. Chapter 4

"Play it again."

Morgan tapped a key on the computer.

"911."

"Yeah. There's a body in the dump. It's that kid that is missing."

"Your name, sir?"

"Tell them to look on the side by the river."

Elle shook her head. "Not a lot of information."

"He sounded young."

Morgan nodded. "Bunch of kids probably went looking for a place to party. Found the body."

"Why didn't he give his name?"

"Didn't want to get into trouble for being out there." Morgan suggested.

"Maybe." Reid tapped his fingers on the desk. "There was no hesitation. He knew who the body was."

"The boy was missing for a week. Word would get around."

"And they'd recognize him."

"I guess." Reid rubbed his eyes. "Something"

"What?"

"Something in the voice. Something more personal than just recognizing a classmate."

"Bit of a stretch don't you think?" Elle poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Reid.

"He wanted them to go straight to the body. He told them exactly where to look."

"Reid's got a point." Morgan nodded. "So maybe the caller is a friend. Won't give his name cause he wasn't supposed to be out there, but at the same time, he doesn't want his buddy's body left out there and his mother not knowing what happened."

Reid shook his head. "You heard Dean. Michael Benson didn't have any friends. Not ones that would care enough to point the police to his body."

"So who was it?" Elle sighed.

They sat in silence, each pondering the question. Finally Reid picked up his phone.

"I've got an idea." He dialed a number. "Mr Dean. I have another question."


End file.
